Greensleeves
by abby-sarajane
Summary: Seto Kaiba doesn't celebrate Christmas. But his wife is rather militant. Introspective fic.


"_Alas, my love, you do me wrong  
To cast me off discourteously  
For I have loved you well and long  
Delighting in your company..."_

It was snowing again. Normally he didn't mind the snow, but it was bringing him unwelcome reminders today. There were Christmas lights all along the hedges. She had insisted on putting them up. He had tried to argue, and she had ignored him. Fine. He could deal with that.

He moved down to the den, where she was wrapping a string of brightly-glowing lights around a large spruce tree that she'd had imported. She was singing softly to herself, some foolish little song about Christmas. It sounded sad, and he wondered why. He always thought that this was supposed to be a happy time of the year.

Their anniversary had been last week. They hadn't spoken to each other the entire day. But she had sought his bed that night. He had given in and taken her into his arms, and then lost himself briefly between her legs. When they'd finished, he'd expected her to leave.

She hadn't.

Watching her now, stringing the lights up and humming that sad little song, made him wonder why he even did that much. She was weak, she was a liability. If someone kidnapped her, he would be expected to be worried about her, to have to pay for her ransom.

If she died, would he miss her?

She was wrapping a silver garland around the tree, and she didn't appear to have noticed his presence at all. He shifted his weight a bit and watched as she pulled out small glass ornaments and started hanging them on the tree. The tree looked faintly ethereal, with white lights, silver garland, and glass and silver ornaments.

He took a moment to examine her. She had been here just over a year, and they had had sex- it was anything but making love- only a handful of times. Most of that had been angry, mindless sex; an argument in his office had turned into a violently passionate embrace on his desk, a fight in the evening had him dragging her into his room and forcibly pinning her to his bed and taking her, despite her initial struggles and violence. He hadn't raped her, he would never have done that. She had wanted it just as much as he had. But that didn't mean she had to enjoy quietly.

There were a total of three times that they hadn't been violent about sex. Times when it almost was sweet and tender lovemaking between them. The first had been their first time together. Her records clearly stated her as a virgin, and he was not a monster, despite what some people claimed. He wanted to hurt her as little as possible, so he had purposefully softened his attitude, had a romantic dinner, lit candles, satin sheets, the whole lot. She had obviously enjoyed it, despite his warnings that it would be only one time that he would do that for her. She understood. She didn't love him either.

The second time there had been a storm. It was one of the worst Seto had ever seen, with almost constant lightning and thunder. Mokuba had, of course, slept right through it, and was safe in his bed when Seto went to check on him.

Tasmin was missing from hers. He had frowned and gone to look for her, not out of concern at all, but out of curiosity. He found her in her closet, terrified and hyperventilating, and shaking so hard she was nearly convulsing. He'd knelt down in front of her, shaking her and saying her name quietly, and her eyes had locked on him and looked right through him, unseeing.

He had no idea she had been that terrified of storms. He'd known she would vanish whenever lightning would flash or distant thunder would growl, but he had had no inkling of this.

He took her back to his room and laid her down on the bed, forcing some scotch and tea into her to calm her down. After a good half an hour, the scotch took effect and she calmed slightly. At least, she was no longer breathing as if she'd run three miles.

When she'd suddenly latched onto his shirt and shakily begged for a distraction, he hadn't been able to resist. He was eighteen, and male. And she _was_ pretty, if stubborn, irritating and annoying. But she was none of those things then and there. She was a teenager, forced to grow up too fast, like he had. She was scared, vulnerable, and asking for something he wanted as well.

So he had made love to her. That had been what it was, and he had not wanted to admit it. She had remained cuddled to his chest when they had finished, and he had fallen asleep stroking her hair.

She was gone when he'd woken up.

That shouldn't have hurt him, but it did. He shouldn't have cared, and he didn't know why he did. That irritated and angered him. He had vowed never to let it happen again.

It was another broken vow on his soul, because he had made love to her again on the anniversary. And fallen asleep with her once again. This time, she was there when he'd woken up. And he was the one to leave silently, without waking her.

She had switched songs now, keeping it sad and rather depressing. He watched her hang tinsel on the tree, making it glow even more. She had lost even more weight since she had been here, making her far too skinny, bordering on anorexic. She was too pale, and she had dark bruises under her eyes from lack of sleep. He knew far too well that her ribs were visible under the baggy clothes she wore. She had some muscles, but that was the only thing on her. She needed to gain weight. He made a note for her meals to start containing fatty foods. It wouldn't hurt her to have some extra fat.

_She might actually have breasts then,_ he thought dryly. _Like she did when she first came here. I bet she doesn't weigh enough to conceive. Dammit. That doesn't bode well, I need an heir._

He shook his head a bit. There was time for that later. The contract stated they had five years to produce an heir. They were still young. And he wasn't ready for children yet. He wasn't ready to be a good father.

He wasn't sure he would ever be a good father.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Seto blinked, returning to reality in a snap. Tasmin had finally noticed him, and was glaring hatefully at him. But there was something missing from it, some element that was usually there. "Nothing..." he shrugged, sneering faintly at her. "Watching you in your pathetic, pointless ritual."

"Sod off," she mumbled, pulling out a large pair of white porcelain turtledoves and trying to fit the top of the tree into the cone on the bottom of the ornament. She was a good foot and a half too short to be doing that. She'd need a stepladder to get anywhere near the top.

After a moment of watching her stand on tip-toe and reach up (continually exposing her stomach and protruding hipbones) he moved over and took the crowning ornament from her and placed it on top of the tree. She punched his arm. "That was my job!"

"You're welcome," he said, voice dripping sarcasm. "You'll be eating with Mokuba or myself from now on. You have to weigh a hundred pounds, if that, and we're going to start making sure you're eating."

Tasmin gave him a glare and a muttered "aye-aye, captain", which was just as full of sarcasm as his remark had been. She took a step back and looked at the tree. _Just as nice as Mum and Dad ever had it. It's smaller, nicer, more personal._

Seto looked at the tree for a moment. "What were you singing earlier?"

Tasmin blinked and glanced at him. "Beg pardon?"

"The song. What was it?" Cold blue eyes stared at her, no emotion in them, no hint at why he might be asking.

"'What Child Is This', or 'Greensleeves', depending on what time of year it is," she said slowly, very wary of this new development.

"Ah." Seto looked at the tree silently for a while. "It was nice," he admitted, without looking at her. "Start eating," he finally said, turning away. "You need to gain weight. I need an heir."

"I'm not going to have your squalling brat, Mr. Kaiba," Tasmin spat, eyes blazing.

"Merry Christmas to you too," his eyes sparked with sudden amusement. "Is that why you've been starving yourself?"

"I haven't been starving myself!" Tasmin clenched her fists, longing to slam one into his jaw. "How dare you!"

"Look at yourself," Seto gestured imperiously. "You look like hell. I can't believe I've brought myself to sleep with you. If you don't gain weight, you'll probably die. Not that I'd care that much, but Mokuba's grown attached to you."

Tasmin fell silent for a moment, staring at him, then turned to face the tree. "Very well, then, Mr. Kaiba. I shall take my meals with you if you insist." She kept her voice soft to mask the hurt in it.

"Good." Seto looked at the tree once more, then turned and headed to his office without a second look.

After a brief pause, Tasmin went back to humming "Greensleeves".

"_If you intend thus to disdain  
It does the more enrapture me  
And even so I still remain  
A lover in captivity..."_

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_A/N: Review because you know you love me! _  
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